Mutual Understanding
by Scarlett Oakenshield
Summary: In which China is feeling nostalgic and Russia is his shoulder to cry on. It's a harmless little fluff one-shot.


Russia knew something was bothering China. At first he had just thought he had slipped into one of his moods. But it was odd, because the feisty nation was usually very cheerful around his large Russian friend. Yet today, he seemed very sad. Russia didn't like it.

They were at China's, painting outside, as it was a lovely day, and Russia decided to confront the man about his gloomy mood.

"Kotenok?"

At the sound of his pet name, the man turned and acknowledged the blond.

"You are not smiling. And it's beautiful, warm day. You seem a little sad. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine...just thinking about...past things." That wasn't convincing.

"You are not convincing to me. Something is wrong. You don't have to tell me about it.

But if you need me to, I can comfort you."

"I am honestly fine, aru." China replied, "It's just one of those days."

"Okay~" Russia still was not at all convinced, but he didn't want to risk upsetting the

Chinaman further, so he dropped it for now and changed the subject. "That's nice panda family you painted." He complimented.

China replied with a small smile. "Yeah. I know they're cute, aru. I like your sunflower field."

Russia beamed. He loved when China complimented his works because he didn't think they were that good compared to all the amazing things that the Asian could paint.

"This is probably my best sunflower painting," Russia said, "You can keep it. Sunflowers bring warmth and bright joy. That way if you ever feel sad and I am not here, you can look at them and they'll make you happy."

"Oh- thank you, aru. But you have to sign signature at bottom so I always know who it's from." He handed Russia the thin brush he was holding that had already been dipped in black ink. The platinum blond took it, and signed his name in the bottom corner of the painting.

"We should let these dry, aru. Let's go inside and I'll make something to eat." China suggested.

"Da." Russia smiled and followed China into his house and to the kitchen.

-xXx-

Russia sat at the little, round table and observed as China moved about his small kitchen, preparing some chow-mein and orange chicken for lunch. It smelled very good. However, China seemed to be in another world. He did not appear to be paying munch attention to what he was doing at that moment.

Russia was drinking water and scanning his eyes about the kitchen, when a loud clattering noise and a short string of curses snapped his attention back to the stove. The mixing spoon that China had been using had fallen to the ground, getting chow-mein on the floor, the water in the pot had spilled and the dark-haired nation was grumbling and shaking his hand.

Russia got up and walked towards him. "Yao-Yao?" He asked, violet eyes full of concern,

"Are you okay?"

China had been bending down to pick up the spoon and set it in the sink. "I am fine, aru. I wasn't paying attention and I dropped the d*mn mixing spoon, and knocked the pan over. That's it." He sounded slightly defensive as he turned off the stove, grabbed a dishtowel and started mopping up the mess. He hissed in pain again.

"Yao-Yao you are hurt." Russia took his little hand in his large ones and flipped it over on the palm side. It was red and hot from where he had laid it mistakenly on the stove.

China took his hand away, "It's fine, aru." He turned on the cold water and ran his hand underneath the sink, "I'm more concerned about the fact that I ruined our lunch. I don't get why I'm so out of it today. It's frustrating!"

"You did not ruin lunch. It will taste good no matter what because you make really good food all the time, da?"

The irritated Chinaman's gaze softened and he smiled, "Thanks. But still. It should be perfect and it's not going to be."

"It doesn't always have to be perfect Yao-Yao. Food is always good."

A ghost of a smile once again appeared on China's face. "You young westerners and your food, I swear." He turned off the sink water with his non-burned hand, "I'll be back. I got my shirt wet, I have to change. Eat if you want. You don't have to wait."

Russia nodded and then walked over to get one of the bowls and pairs of chopsticks China had set on the counter. He served himself some of the homemade, delicious, gourmet cooking and then sat down at the table and started to eat, observing all the decorations all over the kitchen. He loved Yao's house. There were artifacts and paintings, scrolls, and decorations everywhere he looked. It was so colorful and bright. It was as if all the walls were alive.

Yet, although it was comforting and bright, Russia still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that his Yao-Yao was slightly off and so melancholy. It seriously bothered him. He looked at the date on the calendar on the fridge. The date wasn't anything special, he did not remember March 20th being anything but the spring equinox. Maybe China was in one of his sentimental moods today? He often got into those moods; Russia knew this for a fact. After all, despite having the body of someone in their late twenties, he was four thousand years old.

Ivan made up his mind that he was going to find out exactly what was bothering his feisty little Yao-Yao. He walked towards the staircase and made his way up the stairs. He knocked on the bathroom door.

"Yao-Yao," he called cheerfully, "...oh." He wasn't in the bathroom. So he figured he must have gone in his bedroom instead. Russia walked down to the end of the hall. The door to China's room was open a crack. So the blond thought it was okay to let himself in. He opened the door.

"Yao-Yao, are you oka-" when he opened the door he was suprised to find China sitting cross-legged, and bare-backed, angrily trying to wrap a bandage around his injured hand. Yao turned swiftly, grabbing the red mandarin jacket he had had on, covering his skin before he could get a full view of his back. But Russia thought he glimpsed a long, deep flesh scar running down the length of his back.

"Russia! What the h*ll are you doing in here!? My door was closed, aru!"

"You are upset, da? You have been all day. I wanted to see what was wrong. I did not mean to frighten you. I am sorry." He started to walk towards him.

"Get out! Don't get closer, aru!" China began to back up against the wall, with the red top still covering him, but Russia was persistent.

"I will not go. Not until you tell me what is wrong."

"It's none of your business!" China snipped, "Stop getting closer! I am not afraid to use kung fu on you!" China continued to back towards the wall. It was obvious he was a bit nervous and scared.

"Yao-Yao, please tell me why you are so upset."

"No! You wouldn't understand! You're just a child!"

"I am an adult just like you. I will understand. I want to help my little Yao-Yao, da?"

China continued to walk backwards when his back hit the wall. And he was in a corner wall too. There wasn't exactly an escape. He was trapped. Russia stopped in front of him and took his small, burned hand in his and finished wrapping the bandage around it.

"You did not finish wrapping your hand. I fixed it." He let go of it gently, and then placed his hands on either side of the wall, trapping China against it.

"Now, Yao-Yao, you will tell me what is wrong, da? I want to help, see? Because I love my little Yao-Yao. And why are you covering yourself? There is no shame because we are the same gender and good friends."

He tried to take the article of clothing out of China's hands but he yanked it away, pressing it further against his body.

"Yao-Yao, why are you acting so strange?" He once again tried to take the jacket.

"Stop it aru!" China snapped. Russia let go immediately, momentarily taken aback. All he had wanted to do was help. He stepped back a few paces.

China sighed, "I am sorry, aru. But sometimes there's things that we keep to ourselves for a reason. I get you just want to help me but... There's lot of things I have trouble with and can't just talk about."

"I know." Russia said softly, "There is lot of things I cannot talk about either because I get too upset."

"You see. That is how I feel. And when I think about and remember things I can't talk about, it makes me even more upset. And certain things trigger certain memories for me too."

"I see." Russia nodded. It was nice to know that someone felt the way he did.

"Wh-when I was painting with you this morning...I remembered the days when Japan was little and we would paint picture all day. I started to think about how I miss those days...and I started to think about how much has changed between..." He trailed off, he was starting to get emotional and it was not good. But he continued, "...How much has changed between us...and then I start to get hit with all those terrible..." He choked on his words and his eyes started to mist up with tears.

"Yao-Yao..." China shook his head and turned himself away. He didn't want Russia to see him like this. It was embarrassing. Turned away, he let his tears fall.

"Yao-Yao don't cr-" he cut off abruptly and saw it then: Discolored, carved skin... long, jagged, deep, and awful...the scar on his back.

"Yao-Yao, where did you get that sca-"

China turned abruptly and threw himself into the Russian's chest, arms wrapping tightly around his back. The hug was desperate, needed.

The blond froze, once again taken aback by the advance, before he tightened his arms around the small form. He felt tears wet his front as Yao's hands gripped fistfuls of his clothing and he sobbed into his chest.

"Yao-Yao...poor little Yao-Yao. It's okay," he started to gently rub his bare back, resting his chin upon his head.

"There, there little koshka. You do not have to tell me what you don't want to if it's too hard." He reassured.

As he rubbed China's back, he realized that his skin was not at all smooth. He could feel the indents of every scar that littered it. Memories hurt. He could not even begin to imagine how painful four-thousand-years worth of memories felt. He stood there and continued to comfort him.

Russia's large form enveloped the small, sobbing nation as he continued to cry; he cried four thousand years worth of tears. He cried until they ran dry and he just trembled.

Eventually, he was just left sniffling. His tight grip on Russia's clothes loosened, and he rested his cheek against his beating heart, misty brown eyes staring blankly at the room, while the large nation gently rocked him while they stood on their feet. He was so warm. It felt good to have someone there to comfort him.

After several moments of sniffling and regaining his composure, China pulled away from the Russian, and wiped his eyes.

"Sorry..." He sniffed, wiping his eyes.

He looked up at Russia, he eyes were puffy, his face was red, and his nose was running. He was not a pretty crier. "I guess I look pretty pathetic, aru."

"No you do not. It is okay to cry every once in a while. Everyone needs to sometimes, da."

Russia handed him a handkerchief from his breast pocket. "Here if it makes you feel better you can use this to wipe your face."

China nodded slowly and took the kerchief. He looked down as he dabbed his eyes and cheeks and blew his nose. He was still embarrassed as all h*ll.

"Yao-Yao?" Russia was giving his bare torso a look over.

"I know. It's hideous. I'm covered with so many scars."

"No. It is not. I think it looks pretty."

"What!?"

"Your scars are pretty Yao-Yao. Very pretty. And having so many proves you are strong."

"How?"

"Because it shows that you have endured and made it through so much and so many things as a nation. You made through successfully, and it shows strength. I do not think you should be ashamed of them."

China blushed at the high compliment.

"Thank you." He replied, "I appreciate that very much-I really do-but I can't help but be self-conscious about the way I look. And...it hurts...to think about how I got them all."

Russia nodded, "I know. Scars are painful. Just to think about where they came from hurts a lot...but, I still think you are very pretty Yao-Yao. Inside and out. Even with those scars."

"Pretty, aru? That's word used to describe girls."

"Men can be pretty too. But not in girl way. In man-pretty way. Does that make sense what I am trying to say?"

"A...little bit?"

"What I mean is...hmm...what is better way to say what I mean...? Oh! That's it. You are amazing Yao-Yao, both inside and out. You have nice physical features, you are funny and talented and wise and strong and you cook so well. I do not think you should be ashamed of yourself."

"Thanks Russia," he said again, "That means a lot to me. But it is still hard to believe. Everytime I look at my skin in the mirror...it hurts. There are too many memories attached to them that I don't want to look at them. And I especially never want anyone else to see them. I do not want anyone else to see all the pain that I have gone through. Because I do not want anyone else hurt by my pain. I don't want anyone else hurt like I was."

"That is exactly how I feel. That's why I always act so happy all the time. I don't want anyone to be effected by my pain. So I never show it."

There was an awkward silence, until Russia broke in:

"So...it mean...we have something else in common, da?"

Yao looked up into Russia's bright violet eyes and nodded.

"Thank you for understanding, Russia."

"That's what friends are for."

* * *

 **A/N: Meh. Not my best work but whatever. I wanted to write a little thing where Russia saw the scar from Japan's katana on China's back and that happened. I needed to post a little something while I work on my next multi-chapter story. Leave me your reviews please, I love them.**

 **Also, chow-mein and orange chicken has got to be my favorite Chinese meal. What about you all? What is your favorite Chinese food, or foreign food in general?**

 **Also, I was trying to convey a message here: So in mine and Russia's words exactly...You are beautiful, inside and out, all of you, no matter what, da? You are all amazing and talented in your own ways :)**


End file.
